Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Greece and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Invisible to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Can,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Altered Images,
Outsiders,
The Motions,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Lightning Bolt,
Interpol,
The Kinks,
Pole,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Porter Ricks,
The Residents,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Animal Collective,
Arab on Radar,
Soft Machine,
Average White Band,
Marc Almond,
Toni Rubio,
Matthew Halsall,
Howard Jones,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roger Hodgson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Charles Mingus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mission of Burma,
Pierre Henry,
Lee Hazlewood,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fugazi,
Jacques Brel,
Jeff Lynne,
The Gladiators,
Jawbox,
X-102,
Hoover,
The Wake,
Cheater Slicks,
Faraquet,
Half Japanese,
Magazine,
Don Cherry,
Camouflage,
The Cure,
H. Thieme,
Barrington Levy,
The Knickerbockers,
Glenn Branca,
Circle Jerks,
The Busters,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.